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User blog:WayfinderOwl/BTM: It's Tha Fifties Somewhere 6
Wait For It In life, everyone is destined to make mistakes. Only after a series of wrong decisions we make one huge mistake, to make us see we have to change. That is how I met Kyla Vazquez. I was trapped in a port-o-potty with my best friend in the world, and the one kid I truly hated above all else. Not that Gary had made it difficult to hate him. Gary’s fist came at me, leaving a painful mark on my cheek. I decided to play dirty, aiming my fist for his gut. He hunched over winded. Before either of us could make another hit, Pete threw his own body between us. “ENOUGH!” he shouted. “We’re probably going to be stuck in here a long time. You have plenty of time to fight. How about for now, we just reserve some oxygen so we don’t die?” I nodded. Gary didn’t say anything. His face was an emotionless mask. I put the toilet seat lid down, and sat, scooting aside to make room for Pete. One of my ass cheeks hung off the edge of the seat onto the plastic surface hiding the tank below. Gary had the floor all to himself. He held the flashlight in his hands, only turning it on if needs must. We had to save power. Pete broke the silence. “Sarah looked so cute today.” “Shut up,” Gary snapped. “We’re not going to get all emotional talking about girls.” “Knock it off Gary. No one gives a shit that you’re the school’s biggest sociopathic psycho. Just because we’re human, doesn’t mean we have to shut up for you.” The flashlight went on to show me the glare on his face. Brown eyes burning into me from his corner. Not that I cared. I glared right back—though not as intimidating. As much as we were all trying to hate each other, things got real pretty fast. “I don’t think I’m over Beatrice,” I muttered, not really talking to anyone in particular. “I wonder if me and Sarah will get married one day,” Pete said. Biggest shocker was Gary. “Why did I think thirty bucks was more important than going on the rollercoaster with Becky?” Then it got seriously awkward, knowing that we had all heard that. I got tempted to start a fight with Gary again, just to get rid of the awkwardness. We were saved. Chains rustled loudly, and hit the floor. The door opened, framing Peanut holding a pair of bolt cutters. “You alright in there, Josh?” asked Peanut. “Can’t complain,” I said, shrugging it off. “What happened?” I noticed Peanut wasn’t the only one there. Johnny and Hal were a couple of feet away. I headed out the dark port-o-potty into the blinding light, squinting. Hal explained what had happened. “After them trust fund turds locked ya up, they hung around. Some of the other boys fought up off. They split, so the heat don’t try bothering us. Think the preps headed for the Ferris Wheel.” That was interesting to know. “Put that Tad kid in a haymaker over there,” said Johnny, pointing over to a Tad sized indentation in the snow near a stand. Kind of like a very wounded angel. I nodded, impressed. The three greasers headed off, muttering something about the weird octopus ride. Something the snow Tad caught my eye. A corner of green paper sticking out the cold white snow. I took hold of it, between my thumb and index finger, pulled out a hundred dollar bill. A plan formulated in my brain right away. “Pete, where did Hal say the Preps went?” “The Ferris wheel.” I stood, determined to follow through with the plan I just come up with. I stopped, as two jocks—Ted Thompson and Damon West walked by, both of them had a girl on their arm. The two girls walked side by side, practically a mirror in body language of each other. Ted’s girl was Mandy Wiles. Even in winter, she managed to wear her cheer uniform under a gray woolen sweater, completed with blue leggings. The other girl, everyone in school knew her. I had heard her name amongst the random chatter. In the corridors, in the classrooms. Kids terrified she might turn on them, as she prowled through the school, with her posse of followers. But I’m getting a head of myself. She looked hot. In a blue ski-suit, but all the tightness of a cat suit, showing off her big rack, and slim smoking hot body. A long curtain of black hair flowed down her back. Kyla Vazquez. All girls hated her, and guys gawped at her. That moment, we didn’t meet. She just passed me buy. I walked in the general direction—all be it far behind. Becky was stood near the prize tent, complaining to a girl with red hair about all the items on the snack stall menu not being vegan. I tapped Becky on the shoulder. She turned to look at me, curiously. “Becky, Gary would just love to go on the rollercoaster with you,” I told her. Her mood perked up instantly. Becky took hold of his arm, and steered him through the crowd to the rollercoaster. He didn’t even have a chance to look back, before the crowd seemed to swallow him up. “What did you do that for?” Pete demanded. “To get rid of Gary,” I said, like it was obvious. “Why? When the preps come after me—.” “They won’t come after you.” “How are you so sure?” I slapped my hand onto his shoulder. “Trust me Pete. They won’t get at you. This is our day, remember.” We headed round to the Ferris Wheel. Waited until all the Preps were on. There was about three to each seat, two on the third. That was when I made my move. I approached the operator. Handed him the hundred bucks. “All yours, if you can raise those Aquaberry wearing kids to near the top. Shut the ride off until closing time. Leave them up there.” His eyes lit up. “You got it, kid. Those rich kids get on my nerves. Tell you what, I’ll do it for fifty.” He dug into his fanny pack, and retrieved two twenty dollar bills and a ten. I paid Pete back the thirty he gave to Gary. The rest was to enjoy the games. ^^^ You know that every action has a reaction, right? Yeah, well, the preps gave me theirs. After chemistry, I headed upstairs, walked down the corridor leading towards Art. The smell hit me. My locker was wide open, completely empty, with a couple of the Art Freak girls hanging around. The tall blonde—Cheryl, and Anouk the brown haired girl who had saved me from Bif’s last gift. The janitor was scrubbing the locker out, wearing a hazmat suit. Holding my jacket over my mouth, I asked, “What the hell happened?” “Couple of preps kids,” Cheryl told me. “Don’t know which ones. Both of them wearing masks.” I didn’t want to know what they did in there. “I take it my stuff is wrecked.” “No! Of course not,” said Anouk. She uttered more than a few words in French, I didn’t understand a single word, but her tone of someone ranting away said it all. She was either angry or insulting someone. After a couple of minutes, she returned to English, without the anger. “Those Preps said right in front of me, they attack you greaser boys' lockers.” “I got your stuff out earlier,” Cheryl said. “Put it in my locker. I’ll show you were it is, you can use it until yours is good to use again.” “Thanks, Cheryl. Are you sure? Don’t you need to keep your stuff in there?” “No. I have a locker in the girl’s changing room also.” We walked down the corridor as if going to the toilet, but veered left. “How did you get a sweet deal like that?” I asked. “I have to carry my gym stuff around in my backpack all day.” I had heard kids had to be approved by Burton to get a locker in the changing rooms. I was not “athletic” enough to get one. Meaning, I’m not a jock. “School rules. Because girls aren’t allowed to do most sports, except for cheer and track, we are granted a locker in the gym. A rather poor gesture, to cover up the school’s misogyny, but convenient, I must admit.” We walked into some drama. People walking by, pretending they weren’t listening into Damon and his girl Kyla getting into an argument. “Oh, come on Damon, you never take me out anywhere,” said Kyla. She held her arm across her eyes, to hide her obvious lack of tears. Putting on a fake sobbing tone to her voice. “I thought you loved me!” “I don’t love you,” said Damon, flatly. Kyla’s fake sorrow disappeared instantly. Hands falling to her sides in balled fists. Glaring at him. She had the look of a jealous Tinker Bell. “Why not? You have any idea how many boys in this school would kill to have me love them. Everyone thinks I’m hot—you think I’m hot, right?” She turned to some fat kid, with sandy hair. I think he was in the school play at Christmas. I couldn’t remember his name. His jaw almost hit the floor. “Yeah! You’re a total—.” She turned away from him so quickly her long hair slapped him in the face. “See! Damon, all boys love me.” “Then they can have you. Let them put up with you.” Pointing an angry finger, she said, “You just watch yourself. This might just be the last chance you get with me.” Damon scoffed. “Kyla, baby, last time, you begged me to get back together, so you had a date for the weekend carnival reopening.” I turned to Cheryl, who rolled her eyes. We headed down the corridor, across that weird bridge across the foyer. No, Kyla and I were not meant to meet then either. “Did you enjoy the show?” Cheryl teased. “Yeah—I mean… Look, I know all you girls hate her, but I think she is pretty hot. In a we would have absolutely nothing in common, and she would never look at me twice kind of way. Any way we could be together would be a dream. But, she is hot.” “I don’t hate her. I completely agree with you. Kyla Vazquez is hot. Good to have a really long look at, but not much behind it.” “Oh, right. I forgot, you’re a lesbian. I’m surprised you like a girl like her. I figured girls you date would be well, you know. Normal, but not socially accepted.” “Why? Because all my friends are like that. Not at all. I am a girl after all, and I have needs just like any other. A hot body like that does trigger off such thoughts.” Cheryl lead me around to her locker—it was near the home economics classroom. The whole way, we talked about girls. I gave her a short version of what happened between me and Beatrice. “Seems to me, you are both at a standstill. She believes you will always be there, and you’re waiting for her to forgive you. Date someone else. Beatrice will see you are moving on, and make her wonder why she didn’t forgive you when she had the chance. If it doesn’t work out, then she will be glad for a second chance, and you can be together,” said Cheryl, as we stopped at the lockers. “But what if it does work out?” “Then you have a girlfriend you don’t have to jump through hoops for, and Beatrice’s feelings are none of your concern.” She pointed to her locker. “There.” She told me the combination. “Thanks, Cheryl. Can I offer you some advice?” Cheryl nodded. “If the teachers are stopping you from playing the sports you love, do it anyway. Show them exactly what they’re missing out on.” Cheryl nodded, moving her pointed finger at me, in a way implying she will do just that. She walked away, leaving me to get into the locker. All my stuff was laid out for me. Not exactly the start I wanted for the day, but at least I got to talk to Cheryl again. ^^^ Johnny was furious. His hands shook as he passed one of the beaten old table and chair sets in the tenements. Some of his anger bubbled over that much, he stopped at one of the chairs, and kicked it out the way. It clattered on the ground, but that wasn’t enough for him. Taking it by back rest, he slammed it twice against the table and flung it at the wall, turning it to splinters. The rest of us kept well out of it. Sat in a line (at different heights) on the wooden boxes in the corner. Let him work out all his anger, without catching us in his rampage. Only after he had destroyed all the chairs, did his rage start to subside. If he had superpowers, he would have turned into either the hulk or the human torch by now. Slamming both of his fists on the table, making it groan under the force, he angrily uttered, “They will pay. Not beating ‘em up. We will get them where their blue blood comes from.” “Kill ‘em?” Vance blurted out, as he ran a comb through his hair. “No ya idiot!” Johnny shouted. “We go big. All of you, get out of here. Get eggs, stink bombs, spray pain, TP, anything you can think of to really make them listen. We meet tonight, in the field near the nerd’s fortress. Got it?” “Right!” everyone cheered. “Even me?” said Lola, looking at him in a way that normally would have him practically bending over backwards to please her. “Yeah. All of you. Now split. Get prepared.” He pointed to the door. All of us leather—or denim—wearing greasers flooded into the streets, feeling pretty pumped. Hal told me he had to head off, to get some laxatives. He was going to fill up on burgers, and leave some pretty nice gifts for the Preps. In life, everyone is destined to make mistakes. Only after a series of wrong decisions we make one huge mistake, to make us see we have to change. That is how I met Kyla Vazquez. After missing each other, the time had come for us to meet. I headed towards the bus stop, planning to go back to my dorm, to think of something that could work. Or have a quick nap. After the urge to yawn and stretch—that I gave into, I saw her. Stood out completely in the dirty streets, holding a camera, taking picture of everyone who walked by, was Kyla Vazquez. Quickly she turned to face me, taking a snap. The camera flashed, almost blinding me. “Oh! Didn’t see you there—wait, that one looks kind sexy…” I rubbed my eyes. Lint still floating in my vision, she showed me the photo on the small screen of the camera. I looked a state. A yawn that looked like a zombie face groaning. Arms in the air like I was a badly drawn doodle. The grease Vance offered to comb into my hair did nothing to hold it down, it just clumped it together. “Sexy?” I said, shooting her a look of disbelief. “Yeah, really sexy.” She shot me a flirty smile. “You’re Josh Hyde, right?” “You know who I am? Wow,” I blurted out. “Everyone knows you. Cool with Russell on your first day. You fought in the brawl in the hole. Got accepted as a Prep, despite having no blue blood at all. Fought the preps in Glass Jaw, and looked totally sexy as you did it.” She slung the strap of the camera over her shoulder as if it was a handbag. Leaned into me, pressing her big boobs right against my body, hands reaching for my shoulders. “Josh, tell me something, am I hot?” “Yeah.” “Really?” “Totally hot.” “Damon doesn’t appreciate me… Josh, will you help me show him what he is missing out on?” “Okay, sure…” I muttered hesitantly. She took off the camera, thrust it into my hands. Climbed up onto the hood of a nearby car, and started doing really suggestive poses. Moving all over the place like a centerfold model. I snapped away the photos, hoping this wasn’t a dream. I’d never dreamed about girls before, so this was new. After about ten photos, she climbed down off the car, pressed herself against me again. “Josh, why can’t I date boys like you? Sensitive, sexy, as far from Jock as possible. You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” “No,” I muttered, unsure what to do with my arms. Should I put them around her? Did she want me to? If I tried, would she kick me in the nuts and run away screaming? What? “Would you like me for a girlfriend?” I nodded, unsure why exactly she was asking me this. Cheerleaders didn’t date kids like me. I’m the kind of guy the cheerleaders flat out refuse to go out with, rejecting them publically, while the whole school looks on, laughing. “Then ask me, Josh.” Her finger stroked my chin. “Ask me on a date. Ask me to go to the carnival with you.” “Will you… go to the… um… carnival with me…Kyla?” “KYLA VAZQUEZ?!” Pete said, stunned, when I met him back at the dorm. I sat on my desk, back resting against the window—that was far cleaner on the inside, than the outside will ever be. Hands resting on my crossed legs. My face probably looked paler than white. A whole new shade of white; called, I Just Asked Out A Cheerleader. “Cheerleader. Practically Mandy’s right hand.” “Yes.” “Only popular because she seized it. Everyone is too scared to stand up to her.” “Yes.” “Called you sexy, after taking a bad picture of you.” “Yes.” “Knew who you were.” “Yes.” “Told you about troubles with her boyfriend—a guy would kill you if he found out.” “Yes.” “Had you take pictures of her.” “Yes.” “Then asked you, to ask her on a date.” “Yes.” “And you did.” “Yes.” “Are you going to say anything other than yes?” “No.” “Funny. Well, what did she say?” “Yes.” “You’re doing that “yes” thing again, aren’t you?” “No… Pete, really… she said “yes.” Kyla told me yes. We’re going out tomorrow night.” “Bullshit.” “Well, you’ll see tomorrow, when I walk into the carnival with Kyla, won’t we.” “Yes, we will.” I didn’t even need to wait a day to prove him wrong. Just before I was heading out the door to meet the greasers, a couple of hours later, I came face to face with one of the boys on the football team. Smaller, black. I’d seen him in the cafeteria, but never actually talked to him. He handed me a brown envelope, and told me it was from Kyla. I tore open the envelope, and found one of the pictures. Kyla spread out on the hood, looking really hot. On the back was a short message; See you on our date, sexy. There was a single heart drawn. Category:Blog posts Category:WayfinderOwl's Fanfiction